‘Mr. President,’ broke in Kendrick softly, ‘I appreciate everything you’ve done for the nation, but in all honesty there are differences between us. You’ve espoused certain policies I can’t support.’
‘Good Christ, I don’t ask you to!… Well, on the surface, I’d appreciate your shutting up until you talked to me about the issues. I trust you, Evan, and I won’t keep you out. Convince me. Tell me where I’m wrong—without fear or favour—that’s what this goddamned office needs! I can get carried away on some things and know I should be pulled back. Ask my wife. After the last press conference two months ago, I walked into our kitchen upstairs in the White House and expected some kind of congratulations, I guess. Instead I got hit with “Who the hell do you think you are? Louis the Fourteenth with despotic powers? You made as much sense as Bugs Bunny!” And my daughter, who was visiting us, said something about giving me a book on grammar for my birthday… I know my limitations, Evan, but I also know what I can do when I have the best people to advise me. You got rid of the garbage! Now, step in.’
‘I repeat—I’m not equipped.’
‘Oh but I think you are; I think you are. It’s why the job is yours for the taking. Don’t kid yourself, you may have been forced on the ticket, but to deny you would be an affront to millions of voters, the PR people made that clear.’
‘PR? Public Relations? Is that what it’s all about?’
‘Far more than either of us would like, but yes, it’s a large part of what everything’s about these days. To say otherwise would be to deny reality. Better it’s people like you and me than a Genghis Khan or an Adolf Hitler. Beneath our differences, we want to save, not destroy.’
It was Kendrick’s turn to study the President of the United States. ‘Good Lord, you are a charmer.’
‘It’s my stock-in-trade, Mr. Vice President,’ said Jennings, grinning. ‘That and a few honestly held beliefs.’
‘I don’t know. I just don’t know.’
‘I do,’ interrupted Khalehla, reaching for Evan’s hand. ‘I think Field Officer Rashad should really resign.’
‘Also something else,’ said President Langford Jennings, his eyebrows arched. ‘You should get married. It would be most unseemly for my running mate to be living in sin. I mean, can you imagine what all those evangelicals who deliver so many votes would do if your current status was revealed? It’s simply not part of my image.’
‘Mr. President, sir?’
‘Yes, Mr. Vice President?’
‘Shut up.’
‘Gladly, sir. But I should like to add a note of clarification for the record—for God’s sake, don’t tell my wife I told you. After both our divorces we lived together for twelve years and had two children. We tied the proverbial knot in Mexico three weeks before the convention and predated the marriage. Now that’s really a state secret.’
‘I’ll never tell, Mr. President.’
‘I know you won’t. I trust you and I need you. And our nation will be better off for the both of us—quite conceivably because of you.’
‘I doubt that, sir,’ said Evan Kendrick.
‘I don’t… Mr. President.’
The bell of the Presidential Suite rang once again. Four short, sharp half-second bursts.